Free A Night to Remember by Adrienne Basso Page A

in the branches, and a spot of blue ocean.
    â€œReflections,” Joshua announced as he turned into the end of the long gravel driveway. He punched a code into the security panel and two huge black wrought iron gates slowly swung open.
    Eleanor craned her neck back and watched the majestic gates in awe. Then she firmly pulled up her jaw and murmured, “Excuse me?”
    â€œReflections,” he repeated, enunciating each syllable separately. “Home sweet home, sugar.”
    The sugar threw her, so it wasn’t until she read the engraved brass plate discreetly located on the brick wall surrounding the estate that she realized Reflections was the name of the property.
    Was he kidding? The house had a name?
    Panic whispered along Eleanor’s spine. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to deal with all of this. And he really didn’t need her help anymore. She had already given him a crash course in Rosemary’s books and explained the basic philosophy of picture books.
    Maybe if she asked very nicely he would turn the car around and bring her back to the airstrip. Or drop her near a pay phone so she could call a cab. They must have cabs in North Carolina, right?
    â€œIs this where you grew up?” she asked, when intense curiosity helped her find her voice.
    â€œNo. We spent summers here when I was a kid and Thanksgiving once in a while. My father’s family were genuine carpetbaggers. They came south after the war and built this place with—”
    â€œThe war?” Eleanor interrupted. “You can’t possibly mean the Civil War?”
    â€œThe War Between the States,” Joshua corrected with a smile. “You’re below the Mason-Dixon Line now, so you’d better watch your tongue, sugar.”
    His imitation of a slow Southern drawl turned her insides to mush. She leaned back into the comfortable car seat and briefly shut her eyes. Maybe she could call for that cab after they arrived at the house.
    Joshua waited until the gates closed behind them before proceeding down the driveway. As they approached, she sat up and clutched the door handle. Then the house came into view and for the first time ever while in his company, there was something other than Joshua that claimed Eleanor’s complete attention.
    The house was huge. At least five stories and more Victorian or Gothic in style than the traditional white-columned Southern-style mansion she was expecting. There were turrets and rounded edges, gabled roofs, soaring towers of pale gray stone and shutters of dark green. Window boxes overflowed with blooming annuals beneath the upper floor windows.
    Wide, sweeping verandas edged the house, complete with white wicker furniture artfully grouped in conversation clusters. Lush dark-green-striped cushions added graciousness and a romantic flavor of by-gone days.
    The lush green grounds seemed to stretch all around until they were finally stopped by the blue ocean. The only other structures in sight were made with the same stones, clearly part of the estate. It was all so vast, private, and secluded, with an atmosphere that exemplified the very essence of grandeur.
    She had envisioned taste, elegance, and wealth, but this went one step beyond. Every blade of grass in place, every flower in perfect bloom. Even the air smelled crisper, cleaner. The entire picture spread before her eyes looked like a magazine layout. Eleanor couldn’t imagine anyone actually living in this beautiful place.
    â€œIt’s magnificent,” Eleanor said with sincere awe. “Unbelievable. Like something out of a movie set. Or a fairy tale.”
    â€œNo need to romanticize it,” Joshua said sharply, as he switched off the ignition. “It’s just a house.”
    Eleanor flushed. “Sorry,” she whispered, feeling like a complete idiot.
    Joshua sighed loudly. “No, I’m sorry,” he said as a flicker of regret marred the perfect symmetry of his handsome